drive me west
as i go, nd plot me
in dry dirt.
cover my grave
in ditch daisies,
corrugated iron
nd animal bones
plucked
from the post-
nothing
wasteland of darmody
northwest off
the number 1
in the middle
of plainsight’s
favourite hiding-
place
where once we walked like grasshoppers,
all bow nd no leg,
in search
of ancestral things
— wicker bits,
nd empty rail relics —
i am of
my past
nd i am
becoming.